Contradictions
by zodthezen
Summary: AU Post-series. He’d never hurt so much in his entire life. Edward felt like his whole world was caving in; he had no hope of ever finding allayment or peace. Alphonse wasn’t coming back. Tormented, he followed the only lead the Gate gave. Eventual RoyEd
1. Fade into Oblivion

Hello Fan-Fic readers! *waves like an idiot*

OKAY, SO! HERE WE GO! This story is a spur of the moment co-authored (yes, CO-AUTHORED! THIS IS NOT ALL MY WORK!) story featuring the ever-so talented Taylowolf!

This particular chapter is of my creation.

...enjoy?

*MAJOR EDIT* OKAY, SO THIS CHAPTER WAS BUGGING ME. I went through and edited the hell out of it, just to be safe. Sorry for the inconvenience!

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Gold and stark white, yellow and light grey mixed into a muted backdrop. The usually bright, piercing colors were subdued by the white light emitted from an inconceivable point.

He had lost almost everyone that mattered to him, anyone who could possibly help was probably gone…

A formidable opponent, that ancient stone being. It was staring at him with its dead, unseeing eye.

Taking a breath, though he couldn't feel it, he stood solemnly staring at his adversary as it swallowed the first Homunculus hungrily .

He didn't care.

He was numb. His whole being simply placed there, reluctant to feel or to move. But still he stood, watching with wary eyes as the imposing doors closed behind his rival. He watched the Homunculus' serpentine form snaked its way through the eternal depths, only to be forced from his vision as the solid doors shut, separating them from one another. With a final squelch of undoubtedly rusted hinges, the Gate sealed itself once more.

Hopefully, they would never meet again.

But somehow, he knew nothing would ever work out that smoothly for him.

He took another breath, still suspended in an obtund paralysis. By just standing there, he knew his fate was sealed. He knew that somewhere, in some world, he was bleeding to death on a cold stone floor with ravenous vultures leering over his soulless body . The vultures who craved his death, who each led him toward it… they would be watching. Waiting. Observing.

He should have been concerned. But where rage, contempt or at least depression should have captivated his heart… he felt nothing. A cold void remained, untouched as his thoughts drifted toward the outcome of his recent fray. He struggled to raise a ghost of a hand to his chest, an invisible pressure subduing his ability to move. Deftly pressing his left hand to his heart, the boy… no, man looked into the depths of the abysmal Gate, and studied the ornate carvings inscribed upon its features.

His sullen eyes focused on the living relic, and suddenly, as reality dawned upon him, they snapped open wide. As spark of gold trickling its way back into his death marred eyes, the man stared strait ahead. He parted his lips slowly; wanting to shout, to curse the being in front of him, but only being able to force out one tiny whisper.

"…Al…?"

And with that, the young alchemist flickered out of existence.

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A cold hand rested on his cheek, and he reeled at the sensation. Shrinking away from the touch, he turned his head to the side. Damn, what he must have done to cause such an unbearable headache-

And then it all came crashing back to him.

Liquid topaz eyes snapping open, he bolted upright with a small gasp, terrified and unsure of his surroundings. His eyes taking their time to adjust to the bright light, the alchemist squinted at the room around him… and at the woman to his side.

"…Ed…Edward?! Y…y-you're ALIVE! I… I was so worried, and you wouldn't wake up, an-"

At the sound of her voice, Ed forced himself to focus on the reality in front of him. And he couldn't do that through her rambling.

"…Rose? Rose, calm down." he cut her off. Looking into her eyes, something wasn't right. He could almost feel a tangible sense of dread pouring from her expressive orbs… and somehow he knew It was directed at him.

Panic. The light of his eyes blazing into a passionate golden amber, Edward stared strait into her eyes, hoping to glean as much of the truth as possible. Picking up on his intentions, Rose lowered her gaze to the bit of floor between them, avoiding his unspoken question.

_No. No, no he would never… Al wouldn't have…_

The desperate man, feeling remarkably small at that moment, (though he'd never admit it) reached out an ungloved right hand, stretching the gap between them as to rest it upon her shoulder… and froze. His staggered breath caught in his throat, and the man's thoughts sputtered out of control: spiraling towards one central point, but branching off like so many roots of the trees above their heads.

"…Rose." he paused, "Rose, look at me," willing his arm to move from its shock still position, he rested his right palm against her cheek. He could feel the warmth generated by the caress of flesh on flesh...

"…Rose. Where… is Al?"

Her eyes met his briefly at the touch, but lowered to the ground again at the mention of the younger Elric brother. She visibly trembled, her silent weeping staining her dress a darker shade.

She bowed her head. Switching her focus to the sleeping form cradled in her arms, the newborn's slumber too deep to be roused by a few stray tears hitting his delicate face, she simply stated the facts. There was no need to dance around the issue. Ed could handle it… couldn't he?

" …He used alchemy to bring you back, Ed. After… a-after you died."

Even though he knew it was coming, it still stung. And it was with this newfound bitterness that the elder brother Elric rose on trembling legs, removing his hand from the warmth of Rose's face in the process. Subconsciously, she leaned into the touch, the smallest sigh escaping her once the heat was out of reach.

His eyes darkened, hard as stone. His voice took on a clipped, restrained tone, but the panic behind his façade still shone through. Nothing that bright, as pure and strong as his emotional panic, could ever be totally paved over. "…you can't tell me he's gone, Rose."

She still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"…Leave, Rose. Just… go. Please." a stern order made to seem like a request. He offered his hand to help her into a standing position, but she refused to take it.

"…No, Edward. I really don't think I should leave you here--"

He grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her to her feet. "Rose, listen to me! Just… get moving. I'm going to destroy this place. So that no more innocent lives can be sacrificed for the stone like this-"

"Edward, no-"

"ROSE-"

A shrill cry split through the cavernous room, reverberating off each ornate wall. Startled, Rose shot her attention to the crying infant she still held close to her chest.

He had to get them out of there.

Reaching again with his right hand, its newfound human senses alien after coping with automail for so many years, he grasped her free hand in his. They exchanged sympathetic looks, deep eyes meeting for only a moment before Edward's eyes and hand slid from her grasp.

"…get out of here, Rose. Both of you. I… I'll be fine." he looked again, directly into her damp eyes. "Don't you worry about me… I'll make it back. I promise." he effortlessly lied to the young mother.

She finally lowered her stance to a submissive pose, and looked him in the eye; ravenously memorizing his form, his masculine features and bottomless eyes… as if she would never lay eyes upon him again."…you've got strong legs, Ed. You'll get up and use them… won't you?"

A moment of tense silence.

"… Get going Rose." was his curt reply.

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A loud crack resounded throughout the spacious ballroom as the teen prodigy clapped his hands. Blue-white sparks were formed by the action, as the man fearlessly activated his internal connection to the Gate. He looked around once more at his work: the flawless lines and curves adorning the walls, floor and even the ceiling towering above his head. Of all the transmutation circles he had ever devised, this was surely the most intricate; one tiny miscalculation could mean disaster… although, the whole concept of Human Transmutation itself wasn't exactly the safest to begin with.

His moment of silent observation passed as he pressed his charged hands to his chest, activating the circles around him; the various symbols painted in the man's own blood began to emit blinding rays of energy, the entire area being shrouded in an all-encompassing neon glow.

Again, he stood in front of his ancient adversary.

Confident. Steadfast. The iron will of this alchemist was something not to be bargained with. He defiantly held his new arms out, offering himself to the insatiable Gate. Head held high, he shouted at the tyrant before him.

"GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER!"

The unblinking eye etched upon its doors split in two, opening to reveal its greedy tendrils. They reached out to him, effortlessly encircling him in a dark form. The dull golden white backdrop faded from Edward's vision as he was pulled into the depths of the Gate's mirth. The dark forms of children sacrificed to the ancient power swarmed him, the empty souls beginning to pick apart his newly restored body…

All the while, Ed was being assaulted with knowledge. His being mind flipped through as if it were an open book, his memories lost and new ones implanted. Some people, some events he recognized, and others he didn't: although he didn't know it, he was seeing the events of not only his world, but of other parallel universes as well. He witnessed explosions wiping out all living organisms within range, and causing horrible mutations among the unfortunate outside the dead zone. He witnessed various dictators ruling over minorities with an iron power, mercy a luxury not at hand.

But none of those visions were anything more than a nightmare to him.

Suddenly, a flash of a familiar scene. Blood red symbols painted across every surface of a dusty room, careful attention paid to every minute detail. In the darkness, he could make out someone's obscured form, bent over the freshly constructed transmutation circle. Edward didn't need to see this scene again, a chapter of his own past. Even without provocation this memory haunted his every waking hour… perhaps that was why the Gate always chose to force him into watching his own failure over and over again.

This visit would be no different, he would have thought, had he been in control of his own mind.

But somehow… this vision was… was….

The man's power lit up the massive circles around him, encompassing him in light. The obscuring shadows were chased away by the sudden illumination, and Edward could clearly see…

That this time, he was not baring witness to his own failure.

An almost too-large tray sat in the center of the circle, its contents beginning to spark. Ed baffled at the sheer amount of material being manipulated by one person. Focusing on the raw material being transformed, slow realization dawned on the teen as the circle glowed with an even brighter light. The Gate had given him knowledge. The Gate had mentally told him that the offering was not enough. Ed desperately wanted to scream at the fool, to tell him what the composition of the designated materials would entail-

Jet black hair fell into this mystery man's face, beclouding his features. Ed watched on in horror, rapt in the ambiguous scene unfolding in front of him. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice, anyway.

The desperate raven haired being was still bowed over his work when he began to lose control. His pained voice cut through the roar of the transmutation, a distressed shriek emitted from his throat. Arms wavering, he struggled to keep himself upright: the strength was sapped from every muscle in his body by the greedy circle. He violently shook, and through his screams a claret fluid gushed from his agonized mouth. The man's blood was an unhealthy shade of pink, the iron being swiftly drained from his body by alchemy. When some alchemists lost organs, and others paid limbs to the Gate's games, this man's body was being drained of the very chemicals that had been placed into the center of the main circle, in an attempt to fill in the gaps. No matter the amount of material resting in the circle's epicenter, there simply wasn't enough for the transmutation… for the Gate to feed off of.

And so the man's body was being consumed from the inside out, all of his organs targeted.

As the man's frothy blood cascaded to the ground in front of him it came into contact with the circle's vital edges… and marred the transmutation's progress. As Edward bore witness to the man's suffering, obsidian locks of disheveled hair still obscuring his face, the glow of the ravenous transmutation circles began to falter, sputtering on and off at random intervals. They were losing strength. Dying.

Fading out of life right along with the man.

Edward never did see the man's face; as the vision petered out of his mind, the young alchemist's consciousness faded with it.


	2. Senseless Doll

This time FF's own Taylowolf is providing us with this beautiful writing! 3333 GIVE HER LOVE.

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When his senses finally returned to him, all Edward could do was lie there for a moment, eyes closed and body numb to the world. He felt miserable, like something had viciously chewed him up and spit him back out, leaving him ravaged and broken, forced to put the pieces of his very existence back together again. Once more, he was all at once hit with an onslaught of memories of recent events, and Edward scrambled to his knees, eyes snapping open as he instantly began scanning the ballroom for any sign of Alphonse. Had the transmutation worked? Had the Gate complied to his wishes? He found himself begging and pleading to whatever higher deity he had never believed existed, hoping that his transmutation hadn't been in vain. Al was back. He had to be. Yet as Edward twisted on his knees to get a good look at the entire ballroom, searching earnestly for any sign of his little brother, all that his glance met was solid wall, and when he cried out Alphonse's name, a dead, heavy silence greeted him.

Edward fell back on his haunches and stared blankly into the empty room. A quaking hand moved slowly up to his mouth, taking residence there as the young man shook his head from side to side in utter disbelief. A bone-deep helplessness overcame him. Alphonse was gone. His only family had been taken from him. Edward and Alphonse had been through hell together in an attempt to return to their original bodies. Now he had his flesh limbs back, while Al had been left with nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was completely unfair, especially for someone as kind and caring as Alphonse. It should have been Edward that was gone. He's the one who'd had a blade plunged into his abdomen and sent to the other side of the Gate, where he once again died. He'd been given too many "second" chances at life, and yet here he was, collapsed on the floor and breathing while Al was… was…

The man groaned wretchedly, sluggishly climbing to his feet. His legs threatened to buckle beneath his weight, and Edward had a feeling that if they had, he would most likely not have had the will to get back up. "You've got strong legs, Ed." Rose had left him back here when he told her to leave him. She'd been wary, but she'd still left him, hoping that he'd make the right decision and not endanger himself, too. Edward chuckled hoarsely and with very little emotion at her foolish, credulous faith in him. Right now, all he wanted to do was curl up and die. Without Al, his success in obtaining his flesh arm and leg again was nothing worth celebrating. The man wasn't sure what he was going to do now, if he'd even be able to function without his brother. However, some rational part of him knew that staying down here wasn't an option, as much as he would have liked to just waste away. They'd eventually find him, and he had to tell Winry about Alphonse, anyway. Oh, how devastated she'd be. He'd probably have to comfort her. He really, really hated when she cried, especially when he was the one providing her with the reason to do so.

He stifled another laugh and trudged toward the doors that he knew would take him out of the ballroom for what he hoped would be the last time and up into a world where Alphonse no longer existed.

It had begun raining while he was underground. Edward stood outside the paths and the building that had led him down into the city beneath Central, face tilted back as the heavy, piercing rain pricked his skin like a thousand needles and his torn vest and shirt clung sopping to his skin. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him, half-hoping it would purge him of all thoughts and inhibitions and leave him a senseless doll. The man lifted his new, flesh hand and held it above his face, staring through slit eyes at the unmarred, pale skin he hadn't controlled for countless years as he flexed his nimble fingers. It was unbelievable, and he was surprised that he wasn't having more trouble walking on his leg. It was so much lighter than the metal that had been there before. Under any other circumstances, he might have run around, skipped, and sparred with his brother to test the limbs.

Now, though, all he felt toward his new limbs was disgust. Al had sacrificed himself for them when Edward would have rather spent the rest of his days with automail than without Alphonse by his side. They now represented the loss that was suffocating him, and Edward didn't know if he could ever look at them without contempt.

Pressing his knuckles to his eyes, the man took a deep breath and continued forward towards… who knew where. He just needed to walk. He'd walk himself into exhaustion if it'd help him feel anything but hollow inside. Edward barely noticed who or what he was passing as he went, consumed by memories of his brother and a ridiculous guilt that this was all his fault. If he'd only stopped Dante from using that baby, he wouldn't have gone through the Gate, he wouldn't have come back only to die, and Al wouldn't have felt the need to bring him back to life. Edward wanted to punch Al so hard for ---

--- he went sprawling across the sidewalk into a puddle as he suddenly stumbled over something. His knees hit the ground with a sickening crunch, his elbows following suit. They didn't hold his weight, however, and his chest collided with the hard surface, too, his breath leaving him in a pained gasp. Edward clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes tightly as they began to burn with the tears that had been fighting to escape since he'd returned to find Alphonse gone. He curled in on himself, ball forming in his throat as his knees, elbows, chest, heart, being screamed in anguish. It was all too much, and the tears finally leaked from the corner of his eyes, melding with the falling rain. His entire body shook with silent sobs, only one wail slipping out before Ed could stuff his fist to his mouth and press his forehead against the pavement. He'd never hurt so much in his entire life. Even the loss of his mother hadn't been this detrimental, and back then, he'd felt like his whole world was caving in. Now… now he was in his own personal hell, with no hope of ever finding allayment or peace. Alphonse wasn't coming back. He could try human transmutation again to pull Al from the Gate, but that would make their entire lives moot. They'd learned their lesson the hard way, and as much as he wanted to --- he would give anything at all to have his brother back --- Ed knew that there would only be a Homunculus as a reward, and he would never be able to kill something that had the face of his one and only brother.

Edward wasn't sure quite how long he just lied there in the rain, but as the deserted streets quickly became active with soldiers racing past in both directions, the man slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and watched curiously, eyes raw and red-rimmed. Something was wrong. Panic was written all over the soldiers' faces, and the ones that passed closely by him were whispering under their breath, more than a hint of unease in their tones. The fact that they were distracted enough to not even give him, a man sitting on the side of the road, more than a glance turned his blood to ic---

"MEDIC!" The sharp cry pierced the night, slicing through the alarm in the street and the fog that was Edward's mind. The voice was familiar, and when he looked toward the source of the sound, he was startled to see the figure of Riza Hawkeye standing beside her parked, military-issued car in front of the civilian hospital. She reached into the car and, after a moment, pulled her head back out and cried for the medic again. The hysterics he could hear in her voice, too, like the rest of the soldiers' confirmed Edward's belief that something was out of order. Hawkeye was never one to lose her cool. But what it was that had her so on edge and hurrying, he hadn't a clue. He watched as she once again ducked into the car, this time pulling out and supporting a limp body. Who in the…

It clicked. As he saw a medic finally come rushing out of the hospital, the memory of a last conversation, a final farewell, a quick, respectful slap to the hand came rushing to the forefront of Edward's mind. He'd completely forgotten about the undercover mission that had been taking place that night. The last person he'd seen Riza with was Roy Mustang.

His already dying heart faltered.


	3. Crimson Comprehension

HOLY SHIT, it's been too long, Fanfic~ To the few of you who have added this story t your watch list, I apologize. I... yeah. failed on this one. DON'T BEAT ME, PLEASE, I just kinda fell out of the fandom for a while. I... yeah. Fffff. Sorry if this sucks... and is really short.

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Blood. He could see lots of blood, that was for sure. He rose to his feet to get a better view, and in the flickering light of the nearest street lamp he could see the unmistakable sheen of blood coating Riza and…

Ed's breath caught in his throat as the listless body was pulled farther from the car, most of its details marred by the distance. The man's head lolled back in an awkward position, exposing his bloodied face. Judging by the puddle of crimson steadily spreading on the sidewalk below… it wouldn't be long before… before….

A cool breeze blew past the throng of people, both medics and civilians who gathered around the macabre scene; as Hawkeye's hands were freed she began to ward off the unwanted spectators, not a single person challenging her authority. They cleared the scene, leaving only the few medical personnel to attend to the battered man, while Riza began barking orders to another worker as he rushed back up the hospital path.

Ed remained, stock still across the way, watching with baited breath as the man… as Roy was finally lifted out of the car, still unconscious with wounds gushing…. A stretcher was rushed to their aid, and the man was finally hurried up to the rain soaked hospital building. A breeze rushed past the group, pulling its way through Mustang's disheveled , the movement holding an indescribable significance to Ed. Blood-spattered and out of place, the always meticulous locks screeched that something was horribly wrong. Plastered to his face with sweat and blood, hiding most of the carnage to be seen, the Colonel's shock of jet-black…

A chill ran its way up Edward's spine, but it had nothing to do with the wind. A bone deep shock stuck its millions of tiny needles into him, pinning the boy to the cold sidewalk below. Again his mind raced, sending him spiraling into a panic fueled vision of failed attempts; transmutations gone awry, blood spilt upon dusty floors- not only was his own twisted past flashing before his eyes, but another's atonement as well. Unable to ward it off, the teen was bombarded with image of the raven haired man, sprawled upon the blood streaked floor, barely alive. With the man's every shallow breath, a new convulsion racked his body, blood spewing forth from every orifice…

Knocked out of his stupor and almost onto the ground by the fleeting passage of a civilian, Ed flailed to regain his balance. Too out of it to argue with them, not feeling enough like himself to chase them down and teach them their share of respect, he simply looked to the sidewalk below him and stared at the droplets of his own blood as they stained the concrete a dusty red. Damn people, messing with the Fullmetal Alchemist…

With a shuddering breath he tore himself from the stained pavement and darted across the street, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car in his haste. At least he had the conscience to remain reckless, even if half of that awkward speed stemmed from his new limbs. He had never noticed just how much that automail weighed him down... hell, he was even kind of off-balanced now. His foot even had the nerve to catch on the curb of the opposite sidewalk, damned boney thing. He would have fallen flat on his face had he not conveniently crashed into a random civilian. Barking a flat apology over his shoulder, the victim's ambiguous shouts not nearly loud enough to pierce Ed's conscience, he ran onward toward his twisted goal.


End file.
